For Honour
by Shenoki
Summary: Sakura never really understood her dad's job. All she knew was that she had to move around a lot. After an important loss, her outlook on life changes, that doesn't go un-noticed. Angst, described violence and future lemons. GaaxSaku.
1. Relocation

I guess, by this point, I was used to always being the new kid.  
I was used to the several introductions I was forced to make through out my first day, and the occasional unrecognising glance from my fellow peers.  
I was used to having to make new friends, explain everything about my life over and over, and ultimately say goodbye to them. My dad was stationed in the army; it was unavoidable.

I guess my dad's profession is probably the only thing that could be considered interesting in my life. I'm an only child, with a mom, and a dad, and grandparents and a dog. Typical, boring old life. The boring old life that I would drag around with me from place to place, including my grandparents. They always moved with us and lived with us, taking up the living room, the kitchen... everywhere! The whole house smelled of the sickly sweet perfume that my grandma doused herself in, like a typical old person dipped in honey. You couldn't escape it.

As I said earlier, I was used to starting new schools. It was no longer something that fazed me, except for now. I had just moved to a small town in California in the middle of August, so nearing the end of summer vacation, which meant I had to start at my new school, at the beginning of the year, where everyone would be concentrating on catching up with their friends from the summer absence... Not the new girl that they did not know.

Did I also mention that it's senior year? Which makes it even worse! They've known eachother all through grade school and middle school and high school, and then they throw me into the works. Great. Just great.

I tried explaining this theory on my cellphone on the way to my new school, my phone on my lap as my friend Hinata's voice blared through the speaker.  
"You'll be fine, Sakura," came her meek voice, slightly grainy and distorted from the phone connection.  
"If I die, you can have my grandma," I said solemnly. She tutted, stating that she herself had to get to school and everyone missed me. I arrived at the school building soon after she hung up.

Okay, so I knew that California was a pretty stylish, up-market place, but upon pulling into the student parking lot, I felt like a reject. Under the yellow California sun were a group of the most tanned and perfect looking teenagers I had ever seen, leaning on the hoods of shiny cars, the sun's reflection bouncing off the polished surfaces and almost blinding me.  
The building itself? Extremely modern-looking, almost lacking walls from the amount of windows that I could see. Long windows which revealed the pristine white walls inside.

Walking past the group of chatting teenagers was pretty unnerving. I felt their gaze on me, following me from my car, past their meeting point, all the way to the school.  
Was this place really that unfriendly to new-comers? I hadn't even done anything, yet I already felt somewhat ostracised. I took a look down at my clothes; a simple grey hoodie and tight blue jeans. Nothing wrong with clothes, same with shoes, and it was impossible for me to have anything on my face, since I hadn't eaten after the last time I looked in the mirror.

Wait. I know what it is. It's not really that usual to see someone with pink hair now, is it? The curse that burdens my life, earning me names such as 'Bubblegum Head', 'Barbie', 'Pink Prick'... need I go on?

I got the same kind of reception when I entered my first class, after eventually finding it. The gray-haired teacher gave me a disapproving look at my tardiness, before instructing me to sit next to a blond kid with rather unruly hair that kept flopping into his big, blue eyes.

This class was English, and because it was the first day back, we were instructed by the teacher to read or chat quietly amongst ourselves. Of course no one read. They all had stories to tell to their friends about their summers. I took this time to study the classroom further.

White walls and floors, unmarked and gleaming. Heck, even the posters on the walls with different subject topics on matched the colour scheme. Like every typical classroom, there were rows of desks, a teacher's desk and a blackboard. The teacher's desk, like the name suggests, is where one can usually find the teacher stationed. Said teacher had a strange appearence. Although his hair was gray, his face was youthful. The visible part, anyway. Most of it was covered by a strange mask and... an eyepatch? He only had one eye visible, its pupil moving quickly from left to right, then back again, reading a book. Left, right, left, right, left... he turned a page. Left, right, left right, left...  
The book in question held an orange cover with a big 'stop' symbol on its back cover. I couldn't see what was on the front, his hand covered it. I wondered if this was strategically placed.

I was pulled away from my thoughts at the tap on my shoulder; it was the blond kid who I had been instructed to sit next to earlier.  
"You're new?" he asked me, his voice both masculine and feminine with a slight growl in it. I nodded. "Ah, thought so," he continued, leaning on the desk behind him, "I would have remembered that hair anywhere."

Stupid fucking hair.

It was almost like he had read my thoughts. "I never said it was bad! It's just interesting."

I tutted.

"Uh..."  
He looked like he was thinking hard to change the subject now, his blue eyes darting to various points in the room, before closing briefly. "I'm Naruto."

Nice save.

"Sakura," I replied with a nod. I vowed to myself if he said something along the lines of, "it fits," I would kill him.

"Nice, it really suits you."

Close enough, but I resisted the urge; it wouldn't have looked too good. I could imagine the headlines now: **'NEW STUDENT MURDERS INNOCENT BOY IN FIRST DAY TERROR'**

So the rest of the day was like that really, introducing myself to a few people and making small talk before one of us drifted away. I was pretty happy to get home, even if the house already reeked of my grandma's perfume. I had tried countless times to get her to change it. I bought her a sixty dollar perfume for her last birthday, a really nice smelling one that I wouldn't mind taking a whiff of frequently, but she hadn't even opened it! She insisted that 'classic was always best'.  
Classic what, the smell of embalming fluid mixed with sugar?

As always, Dad wasn't home. He always worked late on his stupid army thing. He really doesn't know how much Mom and I worry about him, even if he is only stationed in a US base. He was sent out to war a couple of years ago and was thankfully okay, but when Mom insisted that he get a new job, he shrugged her off, saying it was for the good of the family and the good of the country. That's the kind of person my dad is. He's strict, but loyal and honourable with a slightly old-fashioned attitude that pisses me off at times, but I wouldn't have him any other way.

My mom is just a different matter altogether. Everytime she sees me, she greets me like a long-lost friend, always fussing around me and making me feel four-years-old again, like she was doing now. Taking my jacket, handing me some juice, asking me about my day. At the end of every sentence, she 'ooh'ed and 'aah'ed, making her seem very dim-witted. Truth was, she was an intelligent woman. I just think she babied me because if my dad's life was unfortunately taken from him due to his job, I'd be the only thing she had left of him. If she had her way, she would encase me in bubble-wrap. I know it. Like I said, it pisses me the hell off at times, but I don't blame her.

I don't really see much of Grandpa, just hear. I hear him moaning about everything he can think of...  
"This bed is too hard!"  
"This pillow is too soft!"  
"My head hurts!"  
"These pills taste like piss!"  
"Sakura, turn your God damn music down!"

Just like every grandpa, he gets off on moaning. I think he secretly just wants attention, which he only gets from my grandma. Maybe he hates the smell of her perfume too.

**Author Note:  
**Another new story, for now, to get my creative juices flowing. I know this seems really cliché right now, but it's not going to be a typical highschool new student girl meets boy scenario. I have some originality! Please review or I'll cry :'(

I know this chapter sucks, it's just to introduce her life and family! And Naruto's only in it because I think he would be the one bold enough to talk about her hair, giving it a clue until I mentioned her identity.

NOTE: I'VE HINTED AT SOME OF THE PLOT. IF YOU CAN GUESS, YOU CAN HAVE A COOKIE.


	2. Introduction

**Note:** This isn't going to be a massively long story, nor is it going to be your typical love story either. That's why I'm not spending lots of time describing her classes and time in school. The main focuses within this story are the dialect and inner thoughts of Sakura, so sorry if you feel like there's not enough description of her day. I'm writing the necessary amount in order to not make any holes, but I reckon this story will be 10-15 chapters maximum.  
Love, Shenoki, aka, Shannen.

As the weeks went on, school became less of a scary place. Sure, I still hadn't made many friends, but the blond kid, Naruto, made the effort to chat to me, which I enjoyed. He was a couple of months younger than me, had a thing for rave music and had a taste for a dish named ramen. He explained it was Japanese when I told him I'd never tasted it, and has vowed to take me for a bowl of it.

A couple of the girls have talked to me, too. Just the usual, asking me if I was finding the school okay and a couple showed me to class when I had no clue where to go. One in particular, Tenten, had started to hang out with me a lot, which I was glad for. She was a really quirky character with hair to match; two buns either side of her head. She even managed to pull it off.

Home is still pretty much the same. Grandpa moaning, Grandma smelling the place out, Mom fussing and Dad away at work a lot. He works even more here than he did anywhere else that we'd lived previously. I thought his work load was extortionate when we lived in Vegas, but here, the only word to describe it is ridiculous. I was pretty shocked when he actually sat down with us to dinner one night. He asked about school, and unlike Mom, didn't explode with excitement at every word I said. I asked him about work, and it surprised me when he said he was enjoying it. "Haven't felt this useful in years," were his words. He said his superior has even mentioned making this a permanent placement. I have no idea why, but I felt pretty excited at this. Maybe, I would have the chance to settle down instead of fearing to because I usually got ripped away just when I was comfortable.

The day after, at lunch, Tenten introduced me to her social group. I have to admit, it was pretty strange to be sitting with so many people. I was used to sitting alone or with Naruto; he wasn't exactly a social butterfly either.

Her friends were nice enough, and really welcoming. One or two, slightly strange, but still welcoming. There was Neji, who's hair I envied so much... brown, and glossy and down to his hips, even when he tied it up. Rock Lee, I wasn't so jealous off. He had a bowl cut and I think he liked the colour green a little too much. He kept winking at me as well, which was just creepy. Temari and Shikamaru were probably the two people other than Tenten that I really clicked with. I think this was because I found them to be the most normal, as well as having things in common with them. For example, Temari and I both enjoyed a game of soccer, and Shikamaru and I both enjoyed sleeping. I was also unintentionally introduced to a guy named Sasuke, who was checking up on something to do with football with Neji. When introduced to me, he simply nodded and looked away. Depressing, really. Even I have to admit I wouldn't have said no. You didn't need to speak a lot in order to... just kidding.

So today, when I got home, I was _really_ surprised. Quite pleasantly, this time. My father was actually at home, the first time he had been since I started at my new school. Even more shocking, he asked me if I'd like to accompany him to work to meet his colleagues, which takes us to where I am now, in a huge California army base full of huge machines worked by engineers with earpieces and white shirts. None of them paid any mind to me as I followed behind my dad. The way in which he walked was different to how I'd seen him ever before. His strides were long and confident, like he truly felt at peace here. I felt the curious eyes of a few younger workers on us as I followed him through halls, down corridors, up elevators and stairs and through rooms, until we got to his own personal office, which he showed to me like an child showing off his new toy.

The room was of a decent size, very plain but with a quaint feel. The walls were a simple beige colour, striped with the shadows from the gaps between the strips of the blinds. There was also a large plant in the corner of the room, its leaves rubbery and shiny, almost giving it an artificial look. His desk was oak, by the looks of things. Quite long, shiny from the varnish with a desktop computer and phone. Dad was looking at me with a grin.

"Flashy, eh?"  
I couldn't help but humour him with a smile myself. He started talking about some of his colleagues and the work that he got up to, stationed here. I was glad he was here; at least he wasn't in some foreign country with a gun in his hand. Or even better, at least he wasn't in some foreign country with a gun aimed at his head.

He showed me around the rest of the building, which wasn't as interesting as I'd anticipated. The walls were all similarly decorated with only slight variations in each space. The most interesting room was the control room, which I got bored of quickly. There was nothing to entertain me there, and the rows of machines and radars soon became repetitive. Throughout my time in his workplace, my dad introduced me to many people. In a typical army fashion, he only introduced me to them by surname. Smith, Williams, Harris... I didn't commit them to memory. I doubt that I'd ever meet these people again.

The only person that he didn't refer to by their surname was a certain man. He referred to this man as 'Sir', so I guessed that his was the person whom he always called his superior. Unfortunately, I was never lucky enough to find out his name, not even his surname. The man himself was a very handsome gentleman. Tall, I only reached his chest, and broad - I would guess that his body was twice the width of mine. He had red hair, but I wouldn't really say that he was 'ginger', because that would mean that his hair had more of an orange tone. His hair was literally red, darker than blood, quite long and floppy, but very shiny and neat. Dark brown eyes met my own green ones as he greeted me in a polite tone, his voice low and gravelly, almost seductive. Maybe a polite tone, but there was a darker edge to it that I disliked, or maybe I was imagining things. I found it strange that he was talking to me like I was familiar to him. We had never even met before. He asked me simple questions, like how I liked the place, if I was proud of my dad. I answered both questions with a "yes" before he left, saying he had important business to attend to.

There were two things that stuck out to me throughout the whole encounter. The first, the way my dad looked at this mystery man with such admiration in his face, such respect as he hung on every word that the red-headed man said, answering oh-so enthusiastically. I could tell that he was a lot higher up than my dad from this, also that my dad really did look up to him. The second thing I noticed was the glint in the man's eyes. His face conveyed the emotions of being glad to meet his worker's daughter, but his eyes shone down at me like he was looking at a piece of meat. It could have been the light...

The man was one of the nicest I had met in a long time, but a small piece of me held a strange loathing for him. But it's always the nice ones, right?


End file.
